


Then Eru Spoke

by Taylor17387



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Dagor Dagorath, Gen, Philosophy, Second Music, Spiritual, reinterpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylor17387/pseuds/Taylor17387
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After destroying the world, Morgoth reunites with Eru to have an enlightening conversation in the dark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the end

**Author's Note:**

> This a very short story. It features Morgoth as an eldritch abomination, destroying the world in Dagor Dagorath, and later having a face-to-face encounter with his creator. I don't know if this would count as AU or not. It's rather a reinterpretation of what little is said about the end times in the Silmarillion.  
> Tolkien owns the characters, and in fact, the last paragraph is the beginning of Ainulindalë.
> 
> Translations: For those of you interested, this fic has been translated into Italian by KiraChan (here: http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=2556501&i=1).   
> And into Chinese by Halfpoint here: http://mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=103140 (it needs registration)

The last day came heralded by a tremor. A tremor that run through the earth from its crust to the deepest layers of its core. And a terrible universal crack was the signal of the earth being split in two at that moment, and it having nothing more to do but break down and perish.  
In the distance, at the eastern end of the world, from where the Sun would not rise any more, a black wall came forth. Its width covered the entire horizon as far as the eye could see. Its height swept the stars and tore the clouds. Before it opened the wasteland of desolation. Behind it opened the nothingness.  
The great wall advanced across the mortal lands, and the darkness that it vomited devoured them completely. And all mortals died, as it is written in their destiny.

In Valinor, the gods watched helplessly the destruction brought by Morgoth, the Black Enemy of ancient times. And waited for their end without leaving the site. The wall of darkness swallowed the whole ocean, and Ulmo did not know where to hide anymore. The mountains were pulverized as mere clods of clay, and Aulë covered his face afflicted. The entire forests, and all the plants and animals that lived in them, burst into flames, and Yavanna wept bitter tears, while Oromë lowered his head in resignation. At the top of Taniquetil Manwë sang one last song, full of beauty and sadness, and it was lost as well when the abominable blackness absorbed the air and winds of the earth.

Morgoth, transformed into the monstrous black wall, into a mass of broken flesh and bones, disfigured by the Void and the torment of a million souls trapped in his body, stopped in front of the golden gates of Valmar.  
In front of them was a man standing, wearing black and a with a black sword hanging from his belt. The voice of Morgoth emerged from a thousand mouths opened along the wall of flesh, and every mouth spoke his words with a different intonation, reflecting the thousand shades of pain.

-Thou foolish man, that art back from the place from which no man returns! How darest thou to stand before us and challenge us? We are all gathered here, all the enemies of humanity, and we are fed by all the hatred of humanity. Here is Melkor, the Mighty Arising. Here is the Great Eye too, dost thou not remember?

One of the mouths melted into a mass of fluid teeth, and reemerged as a flaming eye for a second, to melt back again. From the tortured flesh protruded a million tentacular arms and tried to grab the man in black. But he sliced them with the sword in one blow, and then proclaimed:

-A last battle face to face with Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, I only ask for that!

The thousand mouths laughed with thundering voice, and the sky and earth trembled.

-So be it, a last battle. The last battle of Túrin Turambar, the most unfortunate of men.

From the top of the wall a warrior king came down, covered with iron, crowned by iron, and raised his mace above the head of the man. But the mortal was faster to draw his sword, and left it stuck inside the body of his opponent. The handle sticking out of his chest, the point sticking out of his back, spilling drops of rotting blood on the ground.  
The wall of flesh and hatred collapsed amid the scream of a thousand condemned throats.

And the cracked earth finally broke in two. Three gems, like three morning stars, reunited in the firmament and descended to the delicate hands of Yavanna.  
The goddess released their light, and for a second the Trees of the Valar shed their radiance over the ruins of the world.  
First came a twinkle of silver, and then another of gold. And then the whole creation folded onto itself. The mountains piled one upon the other, the seas poured over the earth, and space got more and more compressed, until it disappeared in a single tiny point of light.  
Then the point extinguished itself.


	2. In the beginning

At first everything was dark. Reduced to his minimum expression, stripped of all his power and visible shape, naked, no, more than naked, faded, Melkor trembled in the middle of the void without light or substance.  
Then Eru spoke:

-Welcome back, Melkor.

The spirit of the Ainu shuddered, and turned even smaller upon hearing the voice of the Maker echoing through the nothingness.

-Everything is too dark. I can't see. -muttered the rebellious Vala.

-Of course it's dark. The world has disappeared. You made it disappear, don't you remember, Melkor?

-I can't see you either.

-That cannot be. Because I am everywhere. -there was a movement around the trembling Ainu, as a cosmic ripple, very close and very distant at the same time. And Melkor felt the presence of Eru enveloping him.

-Why am I alone? Where are my siblings the Valar?

-They will arrive in a moment. Or maybe they already arrived countless centuries ago. Time has disappeared too, so it's hard to know.

Melkor sighed afflicted.

-After all, I failed and was defeated. You were right all along: no theme may be played that had not its uttermost source in you. I admit that you have won, Eru.

-How is it, Melkor, the Mighty Arising, admitting defeat and accepting things as they are, once and for all? -the laughter of Eru vibrated through the Vala with power, but also with warmth.- If I have managed to make you come to your senses at least, then I can say that none of this has been in vain. Even when the whole existence had to be destroyed to achieve it.

-At least it was fun while it lasted.

-Well Melkor, that is what matters, isn't it?

The Vala was still trying to search for something in the blackness, but there was still nothing to see. A terrible cold run suddenly through the core of his diminished spirit, and he regretted his loneliness, and he missed matter, and hoped that he had "something", anything, to cover him.

-Could I ask you a question? -whispered Melkor timidly, trying to embrace himself against the cold, even without arms.

-Of course, Melkor.

-Why have you always hated me so much?

Eru laughed, not with a malicious laughter, but with one full of kind paternalism.

-But Melkor! How could I hate you, if you are my son, if you are a part of me? I have always loved you, as much as your siblings. Maybe a little more in fact. But rebellious children like to think that their parents hate them, in order to justify their rebellion.

And as he said this, a part of Eru stroked the Ainu.  
If Melkor had had a body then, he would have defined it as a caress on the cheek. He felt comforted, but still so many uncertainties and doubts assailed him, that he didn't know where to start.

-I'm afraid, Eru. What will happen now?

-Now? Nothing, Melkor. Now everything starts again. Again from the beginning, do you remember?

-From the beginning? How is it from the beginning? -disbelief shook Melkor from up to down, like lightning.- And what ... What happens with the Second Music, what happens with the restoration of Arda?

-There is not a Second Music, Melkor. There is only one music, which is the first and the last at the same time, and that repeats itself always the same but always different. Arda will be born just as it was, and all the events displayed on it, both good and bad, both joyous and sad, will be played once more. I have seen the same act unfolding in the theater of the world countless times, and I never get tired of it, because every time I find new nuances, new gestures, new details in the drama and in the actors. In fact, you and I have had this same conversation before. And still I feel moved by your naivety.

Eru continued stroking him, but now Melkor felt more helpless and more frightened than ever.

-Then ... Then all our struggles, all our miseries, all our broken dreams, have been nothing more than a spectacle and an entertainment for you?

-That's one way to look at it, yes.

-And doesn't it seem cruel to you?

-"Cruel" is a word invented by men. I wouldn't have imagined you using it, Melkor.

-One day you'll get tired of the drama of Arda. And what will happen then?

-It's possible that I get tired, I don't deny it. But since my patience is infinite, I don't think that will happen in a short span of time.

Melkor's voice broke, and he wanted to cry:

-Why did you say that there was a Second Music, why did you lie to us?

-Because you needed that there was a Second Music. Because you, the Valar, and the Elves, and especially the men, need to believe that the world has a purpose, a destiny, a closure to put an end to your suffering, and to give it meaning, and to redeem you. You need to believe that someday Arda will be reborn and that everything will be perfect then, to not despair. The concept of the infinite circle is obnoxious for you, it would be more than your heart could bear. Men cannot understand this, because upon observing their own imperfection, they are unable to understand that the world does not need a rebirth, because it was perfect from the beginning, and always has been, as it was, without changing anything. Oh, Melkor! I thought that precisely you, that have loved Arda Marred so much, would understand this better than anyone.

At that moment Melkor started crying, disconsolate. He felt too weak, too small, and it was too cold, and he kept shivering despite the embrace of Eru.

-You mean ... you mean that I am doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over? That I have to rebel again, and become the Black Enemy, and all for nothing, just to fail hopelessly?

-Would you have wanted something else? What did you expect?

-I do not know ... -murmured the rebellious Vala among sobs.- Maybe I expected a conclusion, a forgiveness, a revelation that enlightened me, or just disappearing altogether and putting an end to my existence.

-But Melkor, you will also build your kingdom again, and gather your servants, and wear the Silmarils on your head, and fight a thousand battles with your lieutenant. Do you remember him? Do you remember all that glory? You surely want to have all that again, don't you? -Melkor tried to calm down and he stopped crying, assenting in his thoughts, and letting Eru embrace him closer.- Deep inside you're still a child. Now come here, my son, come back to your source, come back with your father. Soon you will have forgotten all of this, and then you will rest for whole ages. Or for a single moment, it's hard to know. Come here and rest. And then we will start again.

Melkor felt the presence and voice of Eru filling everything, circling him and merging with his spirit in the most perfect and most beautiful embrace. The void wasn't empty anymore, and his heart was pervaded by indescribable love and joy. Wrapped in this feeling of warmth, he abandoned himself to the embrace, and the last fragments of his being vanished and joined his Maker, in the middle of a shiver of ineffable bliss.

In the beginning there was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made.


End file.
